A guest post from Jordan Beal, a careful observer of the Ukraine-Russia situation, offering a personal take on the events unfolding in Eastern Europe. He is also my brother—unrelated…

I imagine I’m not the only one who’s been watching the events at the Ukrainian border with my hands covering my eyes, opening a slit in the metaphorical fingers to check the news with no small apprehension, asking, “Did he do it yet?” Well, the answer this morning was “yes.” This reality was not a foregone conclusion, as some may believe. It was hardly a year ago when the Russians conducted mass exercises in the same place, though at the time the Russian press mocked Western concerns of imminent invasion, as they have done in recent weeks. (I distinctly remember listening to Russian radio commentators saying, “It’s all just training, what are they so worried about over there?” Given what happened the previous time Russian troops massed at the border of a neighboring nation and what has transpired since, we had every reason to be concerned.) Many hoped this time would be just another show of strength and reminder to NATO – we’re still here, and we’re not going to let you rest easy. Even marching troops into Donetsk and Luhansk (the two regions which were split by the civil war) was no guarantee that the rockets would fly. Sadly, this was no empty threat.

            As I am no historian and given that far more erudite individuals such as the writers of the WSJ Op-Ed board have already taken to analyzing and discussing the new cold war in which we currently find ourselves, I’ll depart the field of grand geopolitical analysis and focus on a few aspects of this debacle to which I am personally privy. My personal studies in Russian (language and sundry) and my academic stint at Cedarville delving into all things German made it easier for me than most of my fellow Americans to keep track of the events unfolding over the last several years and leading up to now. I also had the opportunity to spend a semester in Lithuania in 2018, living amongst hallmates from all over the former USSR, including a large number of Ukrainians.

            As my brother (a regular contributor for this column) can attest, my foreign policy pet peeve since 2018 has been the Nordstream 2 pipeline. My semester in the Baltic afforded me an almost literal front-row seat to the forfeiture of European energy independence, which I decried even at that time as foolish in the extreme, along with our previous commander-in-chief. Western European leaders protested US sanctions against companies that took part in the construction and financing of the project, while those in Eastern Europe, knowing all too well the consequences of Russian rule, called for the whole deal to be scuttled. Not surprisingly, Ukraine took particular umbrage, as this second oceangoing pipeline would allow Putin to close the taps on gas and oil flowing through the pipelines which traveled by way of Ukraine, all without hurting Russian export numbers. As a final insult, Russian gas exports to Europe were unexpectedly cut last winter, driving up energy costs in nations like Germany which relied on imported energy after closing down reliable nuclear plants and reducing coal-based energy production to focus on green energy. As for little Lithuania? They solved the problem years ago by permanently docking an LNG tanker, aptly named the Independence, in Klaipeda harbor which allows them to heat and power their country without imports from their former occupiers.

            While I’m dwelling on my past travels in the former USSR, there’s another country I visited over yonder which provides a unique comparison with Ukraine’s plight today — Georgia. I was a mere ten years old when Russia pounced on another of its neighbors, thinking to myself, “how did the Russians get to Georgia, it’s not that far from Washington D.C.?” No, not that Georgia, the other one, nestled just below Russia and just above Turkey. For those not well acquainted with post-Soviet politics, Russia assisted in the breaking away (read: they invaded) of two ethnically distinct regions of Georgia to form their own de-facto nations, Abkhazia and South Ossetia, which few countries outside of Russian have since recognized. To this day, there are deep resentments against Russia throughout Georgia, with signs of “Russia is occupier!” pasted around the capital city Tbilisi. There was pushback from the West at the time, but nothing more than a slap on the hand and some political finger waving. Why then are we so shocked and appalled that Putin is doing the exact same to another former republic? Is it because Ukraine is closer to the rest of Europe while most people don’t even know where Georgia is? It’s forgivable that the broader public doesn’t know the intimate details of the Caucasus region and its troubles, but our leaders have no excuse for allowing aggression such as this to go unchecked.

            In the midst of all the sordid news pouring out of the Eastern front, there is a small glimmer of hope, if not for those living directly in the line of fire. When Putin seized Crimea in 2014 without firing a shot, the Russian people were buoyed by a wave of national pride, with calls of Крым наш (Crimea is ours) resounding throughout the nation. The national mood is rather different this time around. Instead of approval of the “demilitarization and denazification” of a nation that Putin claims has been waging genocide on the Russian-speaking peoples of its eastern oblasts, the hashtag #нетвойне (no war) has been trending on Russian social media. Be it a personal, apolitical affection to friends and family living on both sides of the line of conflict or the fear of a protracted war which will see many young conscripts sent home in body bags, the Russians are not so enthused about a war to seize or cripple Ukraine as Putin may have hoped.

            Given my connections to the individuals and cultures involved in this conflagration, I am deeply pained to see one side being crushed from above and the other waging an unjust war of conquest, and more generally concerned about the broader implications for the rest of the world, as I imagine many of us are. While I have no power to sway the situation directly, I can implore all those who read this column to take up a call to prayer to the Sovereign over all Creation for our brothers and sisters in Christ who find themselves in harm’s way and more generally for a nation which has already endured suffering on a scale which we can scarcely imagine.

#нетвойне